


Don't Wanna Sleep 'Cause We're Dreaming Out Loud

by emptyswimmingpools



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, bad attempt at humour, based on a tumblr thingy idk i'll link it in the notes, this is 90 percent speech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5899924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptyswimmingpools/pseuds/emptyswimmingpools
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Connor discovers that sleeping in the same bed as Troye isn't the most peaceful of experiences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Wanna Sleep 'Cause We're Dreaming Out Loud

**Author's Note:**

> hi yes some of these ideas are taken from [this](http://opalclit.tumblr.com/post/136675730398) post
> 
> i wrote this instead of revising for my spanish exam i love my priorities
> 
> title is from a.m. by one direction (<3) altho it doesnt actually fit in with the actual oneshot im sorry i jsut wanted to use it fight m e
> 
> anyway i hope u enjoy i love u all

It's perhaps one in the morning when Connor randomly wakes up, and he finds that, rather unpleasantly, his arm has gone dead. It seems apparent that this is due to an unconscious shift in position, where Troye has rolled over onto it, squashing it.

Connor's in a bit of a predicament now: he can't exactly swiftly pull it out, so he either has to wake Troye up, or violently yank it, and naturally, the latter seems a bit unnecessary and could potentially go wrong. "Troye?" he whispers, and when he receives no response, he sighs melodramatically. "Troye, wake up," he says, louder this time.

No hope, unsurprisingly.

Yeah, OK, maybe he's going to have to proceed with the latter. And so he does — well, that is, until he's distracted by a soft, muffled groan from next to him.

"The fuck you doing?" Troye mumbles sleepily, and Connor stifles a smile.

"Trying to free my arm. Could you, like, shift?"

Troye snorts, "You think I can be bothered to do that?"

"My arm is dying," Connor deadpans.

"Suck it up. I'm tired."

"Where is your sympathy?!" Connor exclaims, but then realises that Troye's probably going to have a snarky comment to repsond to that with. "Nevermind, don't answer that."

There's a brief silence, but then it's broken by the sound of sheets moving along with Troye's body and thank _God_  — his arm is finally free. He sighs with content, "Thanks, at last."

...

Fastforward an hour, and Connor's in an odd half-concsious state where he's finally about to drift off to sleep and he's a bit disorientated and dozey and his thoughts are a mess, but then Troye's voice snaps him back into reality.

"You know, I could really go for some pizza right now."

 _Wasn't he supposed to be tired?_ Connor thinks.

"It's literally 2AM. You cannot _seriously_ be thinking of food right now," Connor groans.

"The stomach wants what the stomach wants, Con."

"I don't think that's how the quote is supposed to go. . ."

Troye dismisses him, "Whatever, I'm hungry."

"And I'm not moving."

Troye huffs and snuggles further into Connor. "I hate you," he mutters. Connor rolls his eyes (fondly) but doesn't respond, attempting to go to sleep again.

...

Connor is woken up by two hands on his body shaking him, and whisperings of his name. "What now?"

"I have to pee," Troye says sheepishly.

"And you had to wake me up to tell me that because. . .?"

"I can't go alone in the dark!"

"You can't be fucking serious."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Connor huffs. "You're literally the worst," he says, gingerly (and reluctantly, might he add) getting out of the warm duvet cocoon.

"But you love me anyway."

And although Connor hates the fact that he's so tired he's practically a walking zombie, which is all Troye's fault, he decides that, yeah, he most definitely can't deny that, because he does have a particularly strong fondness for the curly haired boy.

"I guess I do," he says quietly to himself, smiling at the ground.

...

They've both fallen asleep now, and they've subconsciously rolled out of each other's embrace. Connor's comfortable, but it seems that Troye isn't — he shifts around a little in his sleep, trying to find something that works.

Troye moves his arm and softly smacks Connor in his face, which is enough to wake him up.

"I hate my life."

...

Connor sleeps well up until around 6AM when Troye wakes him up with the sound of his giggles.

"Why are you laughing and why did you feel the need to wake me up _again_?" he asks, rubbing at his eyes.

"I'm just reflecting on some funny memories."

"Of course you were."

"Hey, remember when we were _just friends_?"

Connor snorts, "Good times."

"Definitely! Oh, remember when we—"

"I'd rather not relive this all, thanks. Can I go back to sleep now, if you'll allow it?"

Troye rolls his eyes, but nods. "Fine."

Connor's almost positive he's never had a stranger night before.


End file.
